Thorns
by HelloMaryLou
Summary: There have been four important women in his life. You could say he loved them all. Milah, Cora, Regina, and his beloved Belle. Vignettes about his time spent with all of them. [Please Read and Review! I live on feedback! Let me know if I should continue this! Thanks!]
1. Chapter 1

_Milah_

* * *

There she was walking with the other girls, giggling in the bright sunlight.

She carried her washing close to her flowering body and flipped her shining ebony curls over her shoulder when she passed him standing on the little porch of his modest home.

Her eyes, swirling with a million different blues and greens, were rimmed in thick black lashes.

Her pink lips were barely pulled up at the corners, a taunting smile that she dared not give him.

Thick, dark brows arched perfectly when one of her companions chirped, "He's staring again!"

But she didn't hear.

Her eyes were locked with his in one of those sweltering juvenile glares; the kind that promise long Sunday walks and frustrated nights lying in the wet summer grass.

Carefully he leaned onto the old wooden banister.

It creaked even with his meager weight.

She let her extraordinary eyes skim down the front of his lean body.

And then, with a toss of her head, she was gone.

* * *

_Cora_

"You're just as dark as I am, aren't you dearie?" he growls into her creamy neck.

Long silk clad arms wind their way around her tightly corseted waist and she presses against him.

He loves it.

He loves her.

She loves him.

"Get me out of this thing." She gasps.

"As you wish."

Stiff red taffeta pools around her ankles magically and she turns to face him.

Her demon lover.

Nose to nose.

"_Take it all_." She hisses.

* * *

Regina

"Can you help me?" this lovely girl with big, watery cow eyes whispers hopelessly.

She's a crumpled pile of ivory voile and thick waves.

Her engagement ring sparkles on her slender finger.

Hands like her mother….

A cold shiver passes through his body but he shakes it off and plasters a sickening grin to his ruddy face.

"My dear child," he purrs, stooping down to raise her from the ground, "I shall _always_ help you."

* * *

Belle

Payment came in the form of a selfless young woman with eyes like the summer sky.

He hoped that she would refuse; repugnance and disgust firm in her voice, but when he heard the soft, lilting accent seep through the protective barrier of King and fiancé he knew he had finally gone too far.

"I will go with you." She said with her head so high and self-righteous it made his black heart skip a beat.

"It's forever dearie." He said in warning.

_Please, do not do this._

One gnarled finger swayed in chastisement.

But she was resolute, this baby blue beauty.

Her expression said, "I_ am_ strong."

So he offered his arm.

* * *

_Milah_

Every day he waits for her to pass.

He knows she will come walking down the dirt lane around midmorning and he is always there watching.

He stills the wheel and breaks from his work even though he knows he shouldn't.

His heart quickens when she rounds the bend carrying her family's dirty clothes.

Her hem is covered in mud and tattered; her apron is worn and yellowed.

She should be dressed in the richest of silks, not faded calico.

Her feet are without shoes because they are a luxury her parents cannot afford.

But that face.

Even in the poorest of garments she could outshine a Queen.

Sometimes her hair is tied back with a scarlet ribbon, other times it's loose and flowing.

He longs to run his callused finger through it; heft handfuls of it to his nose.

Then one day she smiles and says, "Hello."

* * *

Cora

He gropes underneath her petticoats until he finds her, hot and ready for him.

Little beads of perspiration dot along her forehead and the bridge of her perfect nose.

The delicious curve of her red mouth quivers when he tickles her _there_.

He latches onto her collarbone and begins to worry the area with bites and kisses.

Never does he stop his lecherous ministrations upon the future Queen.

If that simpering Prince or future father-in-law of hers should suddenly walk in what should they think?

A beast ravishing their treasured beauty.

"_Don't stop_." She whispers raggedly into his dirty locks.

What would they say?

Here is the Miller's Daughter about to couple with a monster?

Alabaster legs, gartered with ribbons spread wide for an inhuman creature.

He grows hot at the idea.

Quickly, with his other hand, he frees himself.

"You belong to no one else but **_me_**, never forget that."

His hand is cupping her throat; his eyes glow with jealously and passion.

She only smiles.

But it doesn't reach her eyes.

* * *

Regina

"_I don't know how to pronounce these words!_"

She slung the spell book halfway across the room where it landed with a loud smack.

She hugged her crossed legs to her chest; her pale blue nightgown flowed over her bare toes modestly.

"Now dearie," he cooed, "don't be a pouter! You mustn't be so quick to let your emotions get the better of you!"

He's lying beside of her on the state bed made with cream and rose colored linens.

With legs outstretched, crossed at the ankles.

A lazy confidence held him up against several little throw pillows.

"I don't know how to do these things Master!" she cried, resting her chin on her knees.

Her dark hair spills over her shoulders and sleeved arms.

From profile, she looks exactly like her mother….

"My dear girl, that's what I am here for. What do I _always_ tell you?"

Slowly, lovingly, he snatched curl and twisted it about his claws.

She sniffled and looked at him through a veil of nearly black hair, "That you're here to help me."

"And what else?"

He teases the healthy strand with a wicked smile.

"That _I_ deserve to rule my own life and not allow others to manipulate me."

She stalled between her words as if trying to recall lines to a poem.

"Correct dearie."

He releases the curl and lets it fall back into form with the rest.

"You are a beautiful, sensitive girl Regina," he says gravely, "and you mustn't _ever_ let anyone take advantage of you."

She turned in the bed to face him, "How can I do that!? How can I become strong without becoming a monster like my moth-"

She stops herself before she can get the word out.

Her flawless face blushed and he cupped her powdered cheek.

"Like your mother?" he finishes for her.

Her eyes are downcast when she nods childishly.

"Oh my dear," he soothes, "you will _never_ be like her if I have anything to do with it."

She smiled bashfully and flicked away a falling tear.

Her rosebud mouth smiles at him gratefully.

Like a child who scraped her knee.

He has bandaged her.

"Thank you so much for helping me Master, you're the only one I can truly trust."

He is a monster.

* * *

Belle

It has been so long since happiness occupied his life.

When Belle came she brought with her the colors of the kingdom.

No more black shadows and blood red waistcoats.

Shining maple curls and carefree eyes waited for him in the library, eager to read a passage or discuss a topic.

One night he slips.

"You are so beautiful Belle." He says randomly.

She's sitting on an overly large cushion at his feet, devouring another gilded novel.

Instinctively, he reaches out an aged, disfigured hand to skim through her loose curls.

He has totally forgotten himself.

Yet, she doesn't recoil.

She reclines against his calf as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He doesn't stop petting her, nor does she look up from her pages.

* * *

Milah

He always calls on her after dinner.

She comes running from the back of the rickety shack wiping her red hands on a soiled dish towel.

"Hello." He says awkwardly, always awkwardly.

He brings flowers.

Daisies, roses, and sometimes bluebells.

Twice he brought ribbon for her hair, pale yellow and royal blue.

After the supper things are put away and she changes her apron they walk together.

Other young courting couples pass them by and smile.

Milah takes his arm.

He can feel the softness of her breast.

He swallows the lump in his throat.

"May is my favorite month you know." She says, breaking the barrier of uncomfortable silence.

"No, I didn't."

He keeps his eyes on the ground.

"Well now you do." she giggles.

"What's your favorite month?"

He thinks for a moment, "December."

"_December?!_" she wails in disbelief.

He smiles crookedly, "I like the cold."

Another silence falls between them as they pass the village gate.

Every now and then she presses her breast tight against his forearm.

He's sweating.

They follow the cobblestone wall covered in thick green moss.

He daren't look at her.

"How come you to grow your hair so long? It's nearly as long as mine!"

She says, turning to face him.

He shrugs his shoulders and mumbles, "I don't like haircuts."

"Does it feel as soft as it looks?"

They stop.

"I suppose, I'm not sure." He stuffs his hands in his pockets, "I've never touched anyone's hair but mine own."

She leans against the rock wall, "Well you can touch mine, I don't rightly mind."

Her small hands rest on her narrow waist.

"Truly?" he says hesitantly.

"Surely! Go on ahead!"

She laughs and shakes her hair in front her face like a lion.

Slowly, he reaches out and takes a lock in his rough hand, rough from the wheel.

_This is what silk feels like then…_

"Soft." He murmurs, letting it go like it burned him.

She giggles and pushed it all back from her face, "Glad you approve."

He smiles, abashed, and looks down to his feet.

"May I touch yours?"

"I-I don't rightly mind." He stutters.

Two feminine hands wind through the hair at his temples, the front of her body presses against his and too fast they're nose to nose.

He doesn't know what possesses him, but he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her flush against him.

She sucks in a little breath.

Her fingers tangle in his chocolate hair, "Your's is soft too."

He makes no noise, he only breathes in the scent of her.

Lye and lavender from the washing.

"Would you care to kiss me Rumplestiltskin?"

"Aye, that I would."

* * *

Cora

"All my life I've been waiting for you."

Cora's tangled head is resting on his exposed chest, glittering with sweat after their love-making.

"Once Upon a Dream, dearie?" he chuckled breathlessly as he kissed the top of her head.

"I knew you would save me, I knew my life would not be wasted as my mother's had been."

"Was she as beautiful as you?"

Cora pressed her face into his chest and smiled, "No one was as beautiful as she," she paused and smiled wistfully, "she was the fairest of them all."

He stroked her hair lightly.

He traced the little ridges along her spine.

"Do you resemble her?"

She laughed musically and it filled his stomach with butterflies.

"Not a bit, I look like my father."

She sounded sad, disappointed at the end.

"I look _nothing_ like her…"

"How was she?" he pried in a soothing tone that he had long forgotten.

Cora sighed heavily and burrowed into his blouse.

"She was _golden_. Her hair was the color of the thread we spin, perfect and shining. She never wore it up, even after she was married. It always hung loose like a maid. She smiled kindly when I done idiotic things, she laughed when my father came home drunk and foul. She floated. I strove to be like her, perfect in every way. I wished my hair would turn gold like hers and my eyes would be like hers, so warm and amber. She would brush her hair two hundred times twice a day, and she washed it in rose water perfume. We couldn't afford it but she was so beautiful the old man selling it would fill her basket to the brim for free. In the bedroom she had a drawer of silk ribbons, all colors. We couldn't afford them either, but the Taylor always let Mother have her pick. He would let her have bolts of fabric to make frocks too. Here she was this goddess with a little bedraggled girl nipping at her heels and a husband who passed out every evening before sunset. But she always laughed. The butchers gave her choice cuts; the baker let her come behind his counter and choose for herself. Men bowed to her in the street and laid their capes over mud holes so that we might pass."

Cora had risen up on her elbow as she reveled in the story of her mother.

The embroidered sheet had slipped down thus exposing her white breasts.

"I had all of my days with her. When my father would come home she dressed me in my nightgown and took me down the lane to my grandmother and I wouldn't see her again until the early morning. She would sleep beside of me for a time then my grandmother would come in with a steaming kettle and pour a bath. She was _perfect_.".

* * *

Regina

"What do you make of her?" Cora said abruptly as she stepped out of the darkness.

He was standing over the newborn heir's bassinette, pondering the fact that his lover had lain with another man and borne him a child.

The baby girl wriggled in her swaddling with an apple red face peeking out from all that lace and ribbon.

The royal nursery was silent and black except for the moonlight streaming through the floor length windows.

It was an opulent room; every detail had been handpicked by Cora.

"I think she looks like her father." He choked out, trying to make his voice higher but it didn't work.

Cora only smiled.

She was dressed elegantly in a lavender ball gown that was trimmed in white lace and sewn with pearls.

Her ring and bracelet heavy hands were folded comfortably across her stomach; she was confident in her position nowadays.

"I shall take her from you; I will turn her heart black as night."

"Yes, you may very well do that but just remember this-"

"_What?!_" he hissed, turning on his heels to face her.

She smirked.

"I know your name."

* * *

Belle

"How did you know roses were my favorite?!"

On the long mahogany dining table sat a cut glass vase bursting with fat yellow roses.

Belle rushed to them and sunk her face between the petals to inhale her most beloved scent.

"I am omniscient after all, dearie."

She turned and smiled at him, "Thank you, Rumplestiltskin."

He bowed low like a gentleman.

"Think not a thing of it my lady."

She tossed her fuzzy curls behind her shoulder and plucked a smiling yellow flower from the bunch.

"A favor." She said as she pinched the face of the rose from its stem.

Then, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to do, Belle walked up to him and tucked the flower into the lapel of his brown waistcoat.

Her white hand lingered there, pressing against his chest.

"Wear it over your heart."

* * *

Milah

May faded into June, then June into July, and before Rumplestiltskin realized it they were in the hottest days of August.

He worked on linens now, wools and flannels were to come in the colder months and that would hopefully earn him enough money for a gold-washed ring.

He would never be able to afford true gold.

Milah deserved gold.

He looked down at the thread in between his fingers and sighed, "Oh, that I could spin this damned straw into gold."

He let the thread fall to the floor.

He cared not for spinning as he once did.

He was restless these days.

He blamed the heat but he knew what the true matter was.

Every night he and Milah would steal away to the wood or a hayloft and kiss until their lips were sore and bruised.

He had never known such a feeling.

Last night she had let him lie atop of her.

Though they were fully clothed, Rumplestiltskin could feel the womanly outlines of her body.

They had to get married.

He loved her; he desired her.

Would she say yes?

He could give her a comfortable life, much better than the one she was living now with her mother and father and six other siblings.

She could have a few new dresses and pretty tortoise shell combs for her thick hair.

They could walk together in the evenings and then at night he would take her to his bed and make love to her.

He slumped against his wheel at the thought of lying with Milah as his wife.

He had a little money saved, but not enough to ask her just yet.

She would need things, a new thatched mattress, a new set of china, several more iron pots and pans, linens, and he desperately wanted to buy her the fabric to sew her wedding dress.

He had been to the Taylor's shop in the village and asked about enough white calico to fit a woman about her height and weight.

There was even a little bolt of lace that could be used for her veil.

Perhaps he could give her some of that; perhaps he could give her the world.

* * *

Cora

"You're getting good dearie, before long you'll be better than I."

Cora grinned and crossed the room to where he was seated, one long leg thrown over the carved arm of her vanity chair.

"Do you really mean that?"

She was wearing only her petticoats and stomacher.

"Well, come a little closer and I'll tell you." He said wolfishly as he patted his leather clad lap.

"As you wish…._Master_."

* * *

Regina

"Did you know my mother before she became evil?"

Rumplestiltskin looked up from his work table, "I knew your mother when she carried your grandfather King's flour on her back for a living."

"Do I look like her?" Regina said sweetly, flipping her long braid back over her shoulder.

"No, you have the look of your father." He said flatly.

But in truth she was the very image of her mother.

"I'm supposed to be a Queen you know."

He giggled that unnerving giggle of his and waved his hands stupidly, "So was your mother dearie! But look at how the cookie crumbled for her!"

Regina rolled her dark eyes and stuffed her hands into the pockets of her habit, "I'm not going to be like her, I shall be a great Queen and my people will love me."

* * *

Belle

"You missed a spot dearie!" the Dark One squealed at his new maid as she scrubbed the black marble floor of the forgotten ball room.

"Where?" she huffed, flicking a loose strand of chestnut hair out of her eyes.

He smiled and with a hefty swing his mud caked boot, kicked over her pail of dirty wash water, letting it flood her nearly finished floor.

"_There_."

* * *

_**So what does everyone think? Please R&R! Should I continue these little chapters in our favorite Imp's life? Thank you for reading!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Milah**_

_"I know it's not much, but it's all I have." _

_The young spinner held out a plain, cheap ring in his callused hands. _

_She just stared down at it dumbly. _

_"I want you for my wife." _

_**Cora**_

_It burns when he watches her with the Prince. _

_How she prances, so fully aware of her beauty and power. _

_Henry thinks he's won a prize in her, that he'll pluck her flower on their nuptial night. _

_A sickening grin danced across his gold flecked face. _

_How little the Prince knows..._

**Regina**

**"**_Do you even realize how beautiful you are Regina?"_

_He stood behind the fledgling with his gnarled claws resting comfortably on her bared shoulders. _

_She cocked her head oddly and squinted her eyes at the flawless face reflected before her; the same face she saw everyday._

_Daniel had called her beautiful. _

_To him, she had been beautiful in every sense of the word._

_"But your heart Regina," Daniel would say," is where your true beauty lies." _

_Regina frowned. _

_"Where does beauty get you? Nowhere. My mother was a celebrated beauty and just look where it got her." _

_She tried not to sound bitter, but a hard edge laced her words. _

_"Tut, tut, tut!" He warned as he shook one long finger, "you're looking at it all wrong my pet! With beauty you can rule the world." _

_Regina only rolled her eyes at the imp. _

_"Here!" He said as he slid his hands down her bare arms, "Skin smoother than silk."_

_She sharply shrugged his hands away. _

_"Don't be churlish with me you ungrateful chit." _

_His tone was dark, his face was stoic. _

_Regina glared at him in the mirror. _

_"I'm not ungrateful to you." She said, low. _

_"Any girl would kill to be in your position dearie." _

_"I know." _

_She looked down at her gloved hands. _

_Her engagement ring sparkled mockingly. _

_"Stand up, let me look at you." _

_Regina obeyed. _

_"How wise of you to wear white." _

**Belle**

_"Where do you go at night?" _

_Belle sat on the rug across from him with her knees pulled up to her chest. _

_"What do you mean dearie?" _

_She wiggled her little toes deeper into the threads of the carpet, "Do you sleep? Sometimes, late at night, I hear you banging about, I just wondered..." _

_"You lie awake at night and wonder about the beast?" _

_"You're not a beast." She reprimanded. _

_He chuckled and rested his curly head against the high back of his chair. _

_"I do my best work at night, but if I bother you I shall make an effort to stop." _

_Belle started, "Oh no, it's not that! I don't mind your noise really! I was just curious I suppose.."_

_She fiddled with the embroidered hem of one of her petticoats idly. _

_"What do you suppose?" _

_Belle smiled shyly, "I suppose I expected you to hang from the ceiling like a bat." _

_He giggled that high, sharp giggle and cocked his head at her. _

_"No my dear, I sleep, be it very little, but when I do I prefer my bed." _

_"To think of you curled amidst a sea of down and damask is quite funny." She quipped. _

_He giggled again and rested his chin in his palm. _

_"Well, I' must show you my bed sometime Belle, maybe then you won't find it so comical." _

**Milah**

_And so they were married. _

_He brought her into his small, sparse home as his wife. _

_After the wedding party, torches lit their way home. _

_He was so proud. _

_Milah was his now, and he was hers. _

_Silently they climbed the weathered porch stairs. _

_His hand itched to reach out for hers but he didn't. _

_His little house was plain and nearly bare except for his wheel, a table and chairs, and an ancient china hutch pushed into a faraway corner. _

_No curtains hung on the three windows, no rugs were laid over the rough plank floors. _

_He closed the door and latched it as she solemnly placed her bouquet on the little kitchen table. _

_"This is yours now." _

**Cora**

_"Must you hang on him so?!" He railed at her. _

_Cora only smiled at the Dark One. _

_He was no different from any other man, jealous, possessive, and lustful._

_"Just because it's not you..." She taunted as she pulled the silver brush through her dark hair. _

_In less than a second he was upon her, his hideous hands steadfast around her white neck. _

_"You'll not play me as you do him, as you do his father, as you do the stable lads when they scrape the mud from your boots." _

_She didn't fight him. _

_She didn't cry or tear at his hands. _

_She just smiled that blank, well-bred smile. _

**Regina**

_"She will be called Regina, for one day she shall become Queen!" _

_He appeared out of thin air with his long arms outstretched in a beckoning gesture. _

_Regina looked up from her piano with a start. _

_He grinned. _

_"Did I scare you?" _

_"No, of course not." _

_She folded her hands daintily in her lap. _

_"Now, now my pet, no one cottons to a liar." _

_One raven brow shot up impertinently, "If you couldn't already see Master, I am occupied." _

**Belle**

_As they sat together, Beauty resting at the feet of the Beast, he fought the urge to touch her. _

_She was lost in her novel, as always, and blissfully unaware of his inner tortures. _

_His thoughts of her were improper. _

_She was so young and kind..._

_"Belle?" He said in a tight voice. _

_"I'm here Master." She replied in a distracted voice, her eyes and mind still within her book. _

_"Won't you pour me a cup of tea?" _

_"Hmm?" She hummed absently. _

_"Tea my dear, a nice cup of tea if you please." _

_He hisses over the "nice" like it burns him. _

_His nails dig into the rich wood of the chair. _

_"Oh, oh yes of course." She smiles obligingly. _

_Dutifully she rises and goes to the tea cart. _

_Her pretty little feet sink into the rich carpet with each step. _

_She pours his tea, sugars it and creams it perfectly, then makes her way back to him. _

_"Here you are." _

_He takes the delicate cup and saucer in shaking hands, the jittering of bone china splits his ears but Belle seems not to notice. _

_"Aren't you going to taste it?" _

_He smiles wistfully into the cup._

_"No Belle, I know it's...perfect." _

**Milah**

_He knew very well what was to be expected of him tonight. _

_Awkwardly he walked to his wife and touched her shoulder. _

_The soft calico of her wedding dress eased him a little and when she turned to face him with a tiny smile he felt relieved. _

_"Where's your bed?" _

_He swallowed, shocked by her abrupt question, and pointed to a doorway with a red plaid blanket tacked over it. _

_She took his sweating hand in her own and together they made their way into the tiny, neat bedroom. _

**Cora**

_"I saw you." He says from the shadows of her chamber. _

_"I saw you with the King." _

_Slowly, he stepped from the darkness, hands clasped in front of his groin. _

_"Lots of people see me with King everyday, what makes you so special?" She says in a matter-of-fact tone as she ties a pale pink ribbon on the end of her long braid. _

_His upper lip twitched with suppressed anger. _

_"Yes, but I wager they've never seen the King with his hand buried in your bodice as I just did." _

_Cora rolled her chocolate eyes, "Oh. That."_

_"Yessss," he hissed, "That." _

_She crossed to him and shrugged off her wrapper, "Will you help me with this?" She gazed at him over one creamy shoulder, her corset ties exposed and ready to be plucked. _

_He looked at her, the woman he loved. _

_He had saw her in the arms of another man. _

_She had kissed another man. _

_But, she could never love another man, not as she loves him. _

_Roughly he pulls her to him and yanks at the ribbons until they're undone and her body is free from it's steel cage. _

_She only loves me..._


End file.
